Someday You Will Be Loved
by whammysres
Summary: But I know your heart belongs to someone you've yet to meet. Someday you will be loved.


** A.N. Alright so, never thought that a Mello story would be my first individual fanfic but here we are! I still like my writing in Unfaithful better (plugging!) but this is something short and sweet Also, I own not the Death's of Note or Cab for Cutie  
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**Dedicated to Jack who got me to write in the first place. **

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A streak of blond was all that could be seen when a young man went zipping through the halls. And despite the raging speed, no one seemed remotely all skirted to the edges, backs against the walls as they let the tempest go about his way. Not that this temper tantrum was anything uncommon, it was just that he seemed particularly upset about something. Also, to the more observant eye, he had a small piece of paper crumpled up in his hand where the black leather crunched it ruthlessly. Perhaps this was the very cause of misfortune, as there appeared to be nothing else on his person in the way of book bags or even a coat. He was just running around without a purpose, not avoiding people but certainly hoping that they would stay out of his way.

It was as though the poor teenagers' world was falling to pieces, and maybe over just a spare scrap of parchment. He clenched it with a little more vigor as he approached a dark wood door and tried wrenching it open before he realized he needed a key. With a deep throated growl, he reached into his pocket, pulled out the metal object and jammed it into the lock before throwing himself into the room.

"Ehm." A slightly elder voice coughed with no little embarrassment. "Don't mind him. He has some ah, behavioral issues but I'm sure he won't give you any trouble." The man tried to give an encouraging nod to the red head who was paying him no attention, eyes still fixed on the barring door.

"Yes, well then." The old man cleared his throat again. "Here is your key. And your schedule will be printed out shortly. Welcome home." The man with the silver hair thought he would wait to leave until the boy got situated in his room but the young one had taken to staring off into space so he merely grunted and shuffled off, murmuring something about the 'freaks they get'.

"Uh!" A crash. "God!" A lamp breaking. "Who does he think he is?!" A mattress being overturned. "Does he think he can just _leave_?" Books being torn. "Does he honestly think that he could disobey me?" A drawer being yanked out of its socket. He was losing energy. "Who would want to go on without _me_?!" Pencils standing out against the wall, barely holding on its lead.

"Is that hard to keep me?!" And finally a gun shot, then a collapse. He had pulled out the safety precaution that he was never meant to use and yet had.

The shards of the mirror littered the floor and Mello gazed at them, disinterested, as he felt his breathing start to steady. He could feel the sheets he had ripped off his bed underneath his legs and he was sure that was his toothbrush under his arm. He had lost control. He would surely be punished for this but in reality, that was the furthest thing from his mind.

Tears then made themselves present in the locked room.

"He left me. He left me. We were going to be _so_ great. He was going to take me with him." He sobbed to the ceiling. His head fell to the side where he could clearly see his former roommates' old belongings. There were Legos in the thousands and robots of every color. Mello was sure he had destroyed hundreds of towers and stolen dozens of those figurines in their time together. And even now, as they grew dust from the years of disuse, they still reminded Mello of him. Hadn't he asked, just yesterday, what would happen to these possessions?

"So?"

"Yes Mello?" An almost inaudible yet strong voice answered.

"What's gonna happen to all this." A glance to where he was indicating.

"I don't know Mello, I assume Roger will take care of them." He responded with an air of impatience. The other boy nodded, another snap of the chocolate could be heard in acknowledgment.

That had only been _hours _ago. So short of time and yet they'd been so sure! Their applications were in, they were being accepted to the agency! L's own force (well, not _own_ force, he had some other guy tagging along whom L _claimed_ to be his equal but Mello suspected was more of just a boy toy). It didn't matter that is had only been Near who had been invited to join, Near had vouched for him months ago! Firm in his conviction that Mello must join. Because he knew he was good.

But also, because he loved him. He had to! They'd known each other nearly their entire lives. They had shared everything together. They found out about L together, and competed and won and lost and fought and cared. There was nothing Mello didn't know about Near.

And that was why Mello knew something was wrong. He could feel it in the past couple of weeks. The slight distance, the pulling away. The lack of enthusiasm whenever Mello brought up their up and coming career. But he really knew it; it was certainly solidified two days ago when Near asked a terrifying question.

"Mello?"

"Yeah?" Mello turned around with a smile. Just two more days!

He found a stoic and very serious expression awaiting him. Near sighed and Mello lost his grin.

"Are you very sure that you should be joining this agency?" He set his face and made unwavering eye contact. There was a pause and something similar to a drum roll. And Mello flew into a rage.

"What do you mean _should_ I be joining this agency? What? You think that after all these months, all these years of preparation that I'm not good enough? Say it Near! You don't want me to come along! You don't think I deserve this!" Mello shouted into the silence and realized that Near would never give him a satisfactory response. He just sighed again.

"No, Mello." He turned back around. "You may forget my inquiry." Mello seethed for exactly three minutes before giving in. He strode up to Near before sinking down to his level. Slowly, as though hesitant, he wrapped his smooth arms around him.

"Please." He whispered in his low tenor that almost always sounded like a growl save for his most tender of moments.

"Please just give me a chance. I need this. I need _you. _Take me with you. Let me grow to deserve this. Please." An uncomfortably long silence. Mello imagined he could feel Near pulling away from him slightly.

"Of course, Mello."

And of course he hadn't meant it. Mello knew this and he hated himself for it then. He hated counting down the seconds and yet still thinking himself unsure. 'Maybe he'll keep his promise. Maybe he'll surprise me.' He had built the whole idea up for months. For his whole life if you included the first time he spoke to L or the first time he approached Near. He had all been leading up to here really, and Mello could not think of one thing he could have done to stop it. And for all his rule breaking and cruel tricks and all around recklessness, he didn't think he deserved this.

He didn't think he deserved to be lying on the floor of a wrecked room that one of its inhabitants had abandoned. He didn't think he deserved to have his life long dreamed crushed along with being deserted by the only one he loved. Apparently it was all unrequited. L, Near, everything he'd aspired to would not conform to his plans.

And now all he was left with was a crumpled note in a kindergartners'' handwriting.

The night before, Mello had asked in the quiet of their midnight bedroom if Near loved him. He had never received a response but decided to tell himself one more lie about how he could be sleeping.

He had his answer now. He had woken up that morning without opening his eyes. The room was without noise and that disturbed him. He felt like there was absolutely nothing in the room, though that could be his subconscious conjuring things up again. He opened his eyes. All as it usually was. His side at least. The other side, empty yes. Mello had crawled out of bed, feeling numb. And walked over to the other boys left behind bed. He calmly drew back the sheets and crawled in. He thought that he could smell his old roommates' scent, even though Near was known to smell like the equivalent of nothing. He knew these cheeks had touched the other boys' skin though. And he knew his brilliant, soft head had rested on this pillow. He also knew that his cold, apathetic heart had beat against this mattress, serving the sole person of keeping the boy alive and nothing else.

He had woken up hours later and immediately knew why he was in this persons' bed and was overwhelming disappointed that his subconscious had not made it all up as a dream. It seemed that everything else was subject to it however.

Mello had looked at the digital clock and read 12:56. He had been emotionally exhausted more than anything. Well, it was over now. It's not like he had to try at anything anymore. Abandoning his usual grace, he heaved himself out of the bed sloppily and made his way to the bathroom. All his motions were mechanical; the emotional part of his brain simply did not feel like dealing with anything at the moment. So he didn't. After he was dressed in the same outfit he had worn the day before and looked just as presentable as he had on any other day in the past week, he slouched over to his bed.

Wearing the same blank expression his face had taken on, he put on his gloves and gazed at nothing in particular. After he was ready to explain to Roger exactly why he wasn't at his classes that day, he started towards the door, trying to improve his posture.

When he fell. Slipped actually. He swore loudly at the floor and then looked to the cause of disturbance. There was a small slip of paper that he was sure that had not been lying out the night before. He picked up and read the two short lines written there.

And ran. He was all he could think to do. Any doubts, any worries, any emotions that he had been holding back were rushing out in full force now and he had to combat it with the physical lest he completely tip over. He nearly broke his door open as he exited the room full of memories. He ran down the stairs and almost tripped. He ran past people and upset the items they were carrying. He caused the instructors in the hall to holler at him and yet he didn't stop. How could he be less than oblivious to these insignificant distractions? His life was over. Nothing mattered.

He had seen it coming and yet felt unprepared. He had prepared himself for the rejection and was blown away. He had been uncomforted by his lovers' departing words. How could he possibly go on now? These were the lines that were supposed to make him continue? He finally turned the corner and started to head back to hisroom at the same pace. He needed a locked place. He didn't want to talk to people right now.

He dashed up the staircase, keeping better balance this time, and found his usually quiet hallway not so empty anymore. There was a red headed boy outside of his room, leaning against the door actually, whose eyes were tracing the faded boxes of an old comic book. Mello huffed in annoyance. The last thing he needed was some unwelcome newcomer in his space. He stomped over to the kid who was feigning unawareness.

"Hey." He grunted. The boy looked up, pretending to be startled. Mello seemed to be choosing some snappy comment in his mind before he just gave up and

decided it wasn't worth it. "Go away." He settled on.

"Oh!" The boy nodded, standing up a little straighter. "Oh, um. No."

"No?"

"Yeah." The boy smiled cockily. "I'm your new roommate I guess." He stepped a little closer to Mello, giving him a better chance to study him. The new boy was a little taller than him, but Mello knew he hadn't hit his growth spurt yet so that really meant nothing. His eyes were a bright blue that made a fire and ice contrast with his hair. Gloves that looked ridiculously large on his sticklike arms hooked themselves into his back pocket and he was still smiling at him. 'How bold.' Mello thought. 'That'll last.' He almost rolled his eyes but suddenly the paper still clutched in his hand claimed his thoughts. He looked down at it once more, Matts' gaze still not leaving his face. Mello looked back up. A long pause followed but the boys' bored stance and lazy grin did not falter.

"Do you like toys?" Mello finally growled out.

The other boy raised an eyebrow and gave him a funny look. "Uh no, but if you do-"

"Get in." Mello was already walking in the door, continuously shaking his head and shrugging.

-

"MATT! Get OFF!"

"...Nah. I'm comfortable."

THUMP.

"Fu-OW!" A few low toned laughs.

War had broken out. There were wrappers and video games and Tupperware flying through the air in the messy apartment. There was no stopping the chaos that was the mesh of red and yellow. Grunts and shouts and laughter could be heard three doors down and yet neither heard the disgruntled shouts. Playful punches and half hearted kicks were thrown between the two grown men. It was their night off. No guns or muscle or computers. Just them.

Finally, they were at a stalemate. Matt was on top of Mello, pinning his hands down. Mello had his legs wrapped around Matt, poised to attack. The laughter died down slowly. And then, they were just looking into each others' eyes very seriously. They stayed like that, completely still, for about a minute or so, until Matt slowly started to smile.

"What are you humming?" He chuckled. Mello gave a slow, contented shrug.

"He was right, that's all." Matt frowned, his question seemingly unanswered, but gave up when Mello closed the distance between them, still humming a certain tune.

In some dusty corner, worn and crumpled and re-smoothed again, lies a very old note. Mello never forgot it, for better or worse.

Matt pushed at Mello. "Shut UP!" Though he was still laughing good naturedly.

In the middle of the night, Mello laid back in his full bed and stared at the ceiling, realizing his rival had never been wrong about anything really. He sighed and turned over, feeling the warmth of another person. He gazed at the white bed sheets and began to mutter the phrase that had been imprinted in his mind for five years. It made sense now. He pressed his lips to Matts' forehead.

_"But I know you're heart belongs, to someone you've yet to meet. Someday, you will be loved." _

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_**Review, yeah? **


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